


Tucking Tears Away

by wooziwinks



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Could Be Platonic or Shippy, Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not AU, Reflection, author is coping with the softest of jihoon fics, hm why arent those tags i will fix this, incredibly soft, precious seungkwan, seungkwan is jihoons angel, soft, sweetheart jihoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wooziwinks/pseuds/wooziwinks
Summary: “What’s wrong? Why’re you crying?”It was a little blunt, a little demanding. The same way the man might ask him to sing it again from the top, or order him to pay attention when he’s goofing off in dance practice.Seungkwan felt like it was a little unlucky that out of all the members, he’d been discovered in tears by Lee Jihoon.// Caution EXTREMELY SOFT boohoon ahead <3
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan & Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Boo Seungkwan/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	Tucking Tears Away

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a comfort to myself, and I hope it can do the same for you <3

Seungkwan watched with mild interest as a droplet landed on the smooth black leather of his loafer, and then another. They trailed like raindrops on a window down the width of his shoe, then onto the floorboard below, disappearing with a splash. 

He sniffled, and watched as four more droplets joined the first - rolling down his cheeks, then to the tip of his chin where it sat tucked against knees pulled up to his chest, then dripping down onto the sleek little shoes he had perched on the edge of the last stair on the staircase.

Down the hall and through double glass doors, music thumped and partygoers chattered and laughed, unaware of the teary idol tucked away at the bottom of the staircase outside the ballroom. 

Sometimes that was the blessing of being one in thirteen: being easily missed. 

Sure, it hurt a little bit, the times that no one noticed he wasn’t around. But now, Seungkwan took advantage of it to slip away from the party, not much in the mood to celebrate, even if it was a who’s who in there of producers and idols and radio hosts and all kinds of other important people he should be shaking hands with. 

A small part of him wished he could just suck it up and get back in there. His tears always had the worst timing. But once they started, he knew there was nothing he could do to make it stop but let them fall. 

“Seungkwan?”

Matching black loafers had appeared in Seungkwan’s vision on the landing of the stairs, and he froze. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was: even over the din of the party, he knew that soft voice well. 

He turned his face away, pressing his cheek against the back of his knee, knowing it was too late to hide his tears but still needing to try. 

“What’s wrong? Why’re you crying?”

It was a little blunt, a little demanding. The same way the man might ask him to _sing it again from the top_ , or order him to _pay attention_ when he’s goofing off in dance practice. 

Seungkwan felt like it was a little unlucky that out of all the members, he’d been discovered in tears by Lee Jihoon. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He sniffed and wiped at his tears with the backs of his hands, shaking his head in dismay.

He knew the members were sick of his tears, Jihoon possibly the most of all. 

Seungkwan knew he was an easy crier. A poorly timed crier. An ugly crier. 

“Well you don’t have to be sorry…”

Jihoon sounded a little unsure of himself, reaching out a hand to pat his dongsaeng on the head, thin fingers threading into his soft curls and making Seungkwan lift his face from his hands. When he did, he saw that the man was frowning down at him as he looked him over.

“Did someone upset you? Are you hurt?”

Seungkwan felt a pang of guilt at how concerned his hyung actually looked. He hung his head and shook it, huffing out a frustrated sigh. 

“Sorry, don’t worry, it’s nothing…”

He grumbled. He was just being an emotional baby and he wasn’t sure how he could possibly explain that to Jihoon.

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying.”

To his surprise, the man settled beside him on the stair, hand trailing down from where it was threaded in his hair to instead rest on the back of his neck. 

Seungkwan held still, measuring the weight of his hyung’s hand on his neck, the way it seemed to ground him a bit. 

He considered Jihoon’s words until his bottom lip wobbled. It was what he’d told himself when he’d snuck out of the venue, a tear already slipping down his cheek as he went. 

He could tell himself it was nothing, but in the end, he cried just the same.

Seungkwan sighed, swiping futility at the tears on his cheeks before hugging his knees more tightly against his chest. 

“No, I’m just being a baby, it’s not even a big deal, it’s just… I dunno…”

He sighed again, trying to take stock of his words. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jihoon watching him intently, patiently waiting for him to speak. 

It was a look Seungkwan had seen a hundred times before, but never directly: he’d spot it when monitoring, or in clips of their episodes on variety shows and Going Seventeen. 

Seungkwan was always going on and on about something, always working his way to a punch line or a hot take or a line he’d been charged with injecting into the screentime by their producers. 

And Jihoon was always watching him, and listening to him - anticipating him. 

Seungkwan had never been quite sure what to make of it. 

He could literally turn to his hyung and ask him to listen to him, and probably have lesser results. But unprompted, when it wasn’t belabored, and when Seungkwan didn’t expect it of him, Jihoon watched. And he listened. 

He was listening now. Seungkwan noted the way the man’s thumb brushed lightly over the prickly skin at the back of his neck. The pressure was odd, but nice. He took a deep breath.

“It’s just, I was introduced to some rookie idol in there and we got to talking, and he was just being a stupid little shit, you know how rookies are… They think they know everything… We were that way too back then, I know we were… But…”

He shifted uncomfortably as the conversation replayed in his mind. The fingers on the back of his neck tightened slightly, pulling him back. Grounding him. 

Seungkwan stared down at his loafers again.

“Basically, he said Hit is pretty good for an _old_ group like ours. And that we should enjoy it for now because we’ll probably never be able to dance like that again, now that we’re old.’

He sniffled, and frowned.

“I _know_ it’s stupid… but I guess once he said it, I couldn’t stop thinking about how… in a way, he’s probably right…”

“Seungkwan, we’re not old, we’re in our twenties.”

Jihoon didn’t hesitate with the assertion. It was a little blunt, but not said for comedic effect, like Mingyu or Soonyoung might’ve tried as a way to cheer him up, if they were here instead of him. 

It was just realistic, as Jihoon always was: He was the type who could look at a dinner setting for thirteen and guess within a few dollars how much it would cost. He was no fun to watch reality shows with, because he could always guess the winner before it was revealed. 

It was because of this that Seungkwan had no choice but to nod, sniffling again and peeking over at his hyung. The man leaned closer, eyebrows pulled together in a serious way. He planted his free hand on Seungkwan’s knee, fingertips squeezing his friend’s kneecap with conviction. 

"We’re just getting started, okay? You’re the age I was when we did Don’t Wanna Cry, was I old then?”

Don’t Wanna Cry - they all were so young back then... 

It was long before Jihoon’s shoulders had broadened, before his hair had gotten longer... 

At the time, Seungkwan remembered thinking with fondness that his somewhat reserved hyung had started really figuring himself out, how to be _himself_ on shows and in interviews and on stage. 

_Just getting started._ It would be a good way to describe that Lee Jihoon. Was that how his hyung saw him now?

Seungkwan swallowed thickly, realizing Jihoon actually wanted an answer. 

“No…”

“Yeah exactly.”

Jihoon huffed a kind of satisfied sound, clapping his hand once on Seungkwan’s knee. 

“We’re fine. Don’t listen to that stupid rookie, he’s full of shit.”

Seungkwan sighed, cheeks puffing a bit as he leaned back down to tuck his chin against his knees with a pout. 

The chest tightening, eye watering sorrow was gone now: Jihoon had thrown open the window of his heart and shooed it all away, like his mother dealt with the dust when she cleaned in the spring - firmly, and without dramatics. 

Now Seungkwan just felt ashamed for his dramatic tears, and a desire to try and explain why he’d gone to that dark place so fast. Not only to Jihoon, but to himself. 

“I just feel like time has gone by so fast, hyung… We’re nearly a five year old group…”

Jihoon nodded, then sighed, extracting himself from his dongsaeng enough to lean back his elbows on the next step up behind them. He gripped his fingers around Seungkwan’s bicep at the crook of his elbow, keeping the connection between them, and the younger man smiled slightly to himself at that. 

“I know what you mean, but it’s a blessing, not something to cry about, Seungkwan.”

Something about the man’s tone told his younger counterpart that he’d thought about this before - possibly as much as he had. Seungkwan peeked over at the man, observing the thoughtful expression on his face as he studied the ceiling above them.

“I really mean it when I say we’re just getting started. And I’m the one who writes the music, so I know better than some bitch rookie.”

He kicked his leg out for emphasis, and Seungkwan giggled. 

Jihoon seemed to perk up at the sound, leaning forward again to peer into the younger man’s face and rub a hand up and down his spine.

“You’re working yourself too hard, Seungkwan.”

The serious expression was back, eyebrows pulled together as he peered over his dongsaeng.

“I don’t like the idea of you tucking off into corners to beat yourself up when you should be in there celebrating with your brothers.”

Seungkwan swallowed, the comment throwing him off a bit. He didn’t know he existed as an _idea_ to Jihoon. What ideas did his hyung have about him? Jihoon did not seem like the worrying type. But he seemed like he was worrying now. 

The younger man shrugged with a sigh, glancing away again, feeling guilty for making Jihoon apparently grow _the ability to fret_ just for him. It probably wasn’t worth the effort on his part...

“I just didn’t want the others to see…”

He explained, gesturing vaguely at himself, at _all of this_ that was happening right now. 

"I know you don’t like it when I cry… I don’t know why I get like this… I know it’s bothersome, but I can’t help it sometimes…”

Seungkwan knew he could be funny. And he could be cute. He could even be angry, or pouty, or naggy. But no one seemed to like it when he was sad. 

That was okay - it was a price he was willing to pay for the life he lived now, and the company he kept. But it didn’t mean he _never_ got sad. It just meant that he’d gotten a lot better at not having an audience when he did. 

The hand on his back stopped in place where it had been rubbing, and Jihoon scoffed. 

“It’s not that I mind if you cry, Seungkwan, I just mind that you’re beating yourself up.”

Seungkwan peeked over at the man, a little taken aback at the tone of his hyung’s voice. He sounded frustrated, but not necessarily at him.

Jihoon shook his head, taking his hand back to gesture with as he added, 

“Seokmin too, for that matter, and any of you kids.”

Something about the way he said it indicated to Seungkwan that it perhaps was not the first time he’d asserted the idea. Like this was something really on his mind. 

Jihoon sighed then, deflating back onto his elbows again with another shake of his head. Seungkwan watched him press his lips together, then lift his gaze up to the ceiling, looking thoughtful again as he finally concluded,

“Maybe Cheol and Soonyoung and I set a bad example. But now you’re all too hard on yourselves.”

Seungkwan frowned at his hyung. 

This seemed like a display that wasn’t for him - like getting up for a glass of water in the middle of the night as a child and spotting his mother at the kitchen table, shedding a secret tear over whatever was weighing her down at the time, when she thought her children couldn’t see her. 

Did Jihoon feel regret for some of his actions as a leader of the group? Did he blame himself for the disposition the younger members had now, in part because of him? 

It would be the first time he’d expressed anything like that to Seungkwan. He didn’t know Jihoon was even capable of regret. 

It wasn’t that Seungkwan necessarily agreed with the idea: he loved his hyung dearly, trusted him with his life, and certainly did not blame the man for the high standard he held himself to. 

But he was touched that Jihoon acknowledged that Seungkwan, and all the dongsaengs really, were the way they were _for a reason._

Seungkwan didn’t cry because he was a baby. He cried because many circumstances, experiences, and people - including Jihoon - had molded him into this person, and this way of being, of stealing away at parties to cry, and thinking he was old in his early twenties.

The acknowledgement displayed a level of responsibility that made Jihoon who _he_ was: a leader, and Seungkwan’s older brother. The thought filled Seungkwan with a comforting warmth that started in his chest and spread through his body into his fingertips and toes. 

“Maybe you’re right, in a way…”

He allowed. Jihoon lifted an eyebrow up at him from his perch back on his elbows, and offered a kind of crooked, knowing smile.

“I know I’m right. Here, take this.”

He sat forward again, his moment of reflection apparently behind him as he switched gears, taking up Seungkwan’s discarded cocktail glass from where it had been forgotten off to the side.

He held up the glass near Seungkwan’s face, instructing,

“Press the cool part below your eyes to help with the redness.”

The younger man blinked at the glass and then at his hyung, a little unsure, but did as he was told. Jihoon kept his fingers around the rim to guide Seungkwan through the motion until he could do it on his own, then sat back again, leaning his elbow on his knee and perching his cheek in his hand to watch the man work. 

“You know, I used to be a huge crybaby.”

He commented. Seungkwan peeked at him from behind his glass.

“Really?”

It was hard to imagine. Not counting when they watched sappy movies together, Seungkwan could probably count on his hands the amount of times he’d seen his hyung cry. 

The man nodded.

“Yeah. I was the kind of kid who’d cry at anything. I’d cry in class when I didn’t get perfect scores on my tests, or when I couldn’t answer the teacher’s questions… I’d cry if I lost a baseball game… I’d cry if I couldn’t get anyone to play with me at recess...”

He ticked off the examples on his free hand, and Seungkwan giggled. 

“Ha, sounds familiar…”

Jihoon met Seungkwan’s eye and offered another lopsided, knowing grin. 

“I think it’s something we have in common.”

Seungkwan felt his cheeks go a little pink at the comment but Jihoon didn’t seem to notice, sighing as he dropped his gaze again to pick absently at the rubber rim of his loafer.

“My cheeks and nose would always get all red when I cried. The kids would even tease me for it, which is why I eventually had to kick the habit.”

The younger man set aside the glass to pout at his hyung, eyes wide and lower lip jutting out as he imagined a much smaller Jihoon with much rounder cheeks that were flushed from crying. 

“Oh, but it sounds _so cute_ …”

He cooed, and Jihoon grinned up at him, his cheek still leaned in his hand. 

“Probably more pitiful than cute. I don’t think my nose crinkled like yours does when you cry. _That’s_ cute.”

He said it as matter-of-factly as he would say anything else, and Seungkwan felt color spring to his cheeks again before he glanced away, insisting,

“No, I’m an ugly crier, I know I am…”

“I disagree.”

Seungkwan peeked back over at the assertion, and they locked eyes for a moment. Jihoon had sat up, and the younger man was a little taken aback at how close their faces suddenly were. 

  
The older man let his dongsaeng take in his expression of conviction for a moment before waving a hand, breaking the stillness between them as he commented,

“But don’t take it to heart, I’d rather not see that face at all. You’re plenty cute without crying…”

Seungkwan scoffed, then brushed delicately at the corner of his eye, batting his eyelashes bashfully over at the older man with a cute sniffle.

“Hyung, you’re being so nice to me…”

Jihoon cocked his head to the side, crossing his arms in front of him as he noted the misty look the man was giving him. 

“Huh, should I be tougher? I _just_ told you I don’t want to see any more crying!”

Seungkwan broke into a fit of giggles at the exclamation, batting his hand playfully at the man. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m okay. Thank you hyung, you’ve made me feel a lot better.”

Before he could second guess himself, Seungkwan leaned over and pressed a quick peck against his hyung’s cheek. 

When he pulled away, Jihoon rubbed at the spot with a grumble, but he couldn’t hide the shy smile that twitched at the corner of his lips.

“Well, good. Can we go back in now?”

Seungkwan nodded and Jihoon stood, offering his hands down to the younger man, who took them and let his hyung pull him to his feet. 

As they turned back towards the ballroom Jihoon hooked an arm around the small of his dongsaeng’s back, keeping him close against his side.

“Just stay by me, Kwannie, and I’ll beat up any rookies that look at you funny.”

He shot the younger man a little grin, and Seungkwan giggled again, knowing his hyung was both joking and also completely serious. Somehow, it was better that way. 

“Okay, I will.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> what's funny is that this is loosely inspired by the lyrics of Hug, but they don't actually hug... still I hope you found some comfort in this little fic. Jihoon....... loves his vocal team angels 😭


End file.
